


Gathering Flowers and Carrying Fire

by mllelaurel



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: And also because Hak, Because Jae-Ha, Because all of them really, Ditto past Hak/Su-Won, F/M, Implications of past Yona/Su-Won, Kinky Implications, M/M, Multi, People who are Good At Feelings (No), feelings are hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 09:04:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8884984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mllelaurel/pseuds/mllelaurel
Summary: None of them know just what they're doing. But maybe that's all right.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sterlynsilverrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sterlynsilverrose/gifts).



They are none of them at their loveliest, in the wake of Kushibi’s fall. If Jae-ha closes his eyes, he can still feel the wind buffeting his face, hear the sounds of battle and the song of adrenaline in his veins. He hasn’t slept more than a couple of hours apiece in the last week, and he suspects tonight will be no different. 

Nor is he the only one. Jae-ha hushes his footsteps, ducking out of sight, before he can disturb Yona and Hak in their little rendezvous. 

He doesn’t mean to snoop on them - or maybe he does, somewhere in his deepest and most masochistic heart of hearts - and cruel gods above, they are _idiots_. No other words are strong enough to describe their awkward dance, hair’s-breadth away from letting each other in, only to turn and run. 

_Take it from someone who knows all about running_ , Jae-ha thinks, and oh, the irony of it all is willow-bark bitter in his mouth. It would be so much easier, if only they’d hurry up and work things out between them. Easier for them, and easier for Jae-ha as well. 

Jae-ha turns away from them, chiding himself for his intrusion. They’ll get there in their own time, or they won’t. It’s none of his business, or at least it shouldn’t be. Better to soar, breaking through the forest canopy, until he finds a branch that will bear the weight of all his trifling little melancholies. The stars wheel on overhead, cold and bright and lonely, and sleep is a long time coming. 

***

The next day is spent in preparations and unfinished business. Yona takes her time, making the most of her visit with Lili. Although she’s still exhausted after her ordeal, her eyes are brighter when she returns, and she smiles when Jae-ha enquires after her friend’s health. “She’s juggling a lot of visitors,” Yona tells him, “but she’s feeling much better already. I’m glad I got to see her again, before we had to leave.”

“ _Do_ we ‘have to’?” It would be nice if they could stay somewhere decent for two whole minutes, without the world exploding. Jae-ha misses the bustle of a city, the smiles of its women, the dissonant music of its noise. He even misses the smell sometimes, in the deep of the night, with the mossy silence of the forest pressing down around him. 

“It’s not safe,” Yona says. “Too many people have seen us.” And by ‘too many people,’ she means the king and his generals, of course. 

“Should we expect pursuit?” That they didn’t come to blows in the aftermath is nothing short of a miracle. He’d bet more than a handful of rin that they’ve the Wind Tribe’s presence to thank for this extended armistice. Still. No detente lasts forever. 

“I’m not sure.” Yona looks away, and in looking away, she stumbles.

In a flash, Jae-ha is there to catch her. She sags against him for only a moment before biting her lip and standing on her own. “Seriously. Are you and Hak conspiring to fuss over me?”

Jae-ha’s hand lingers on her shoulder. “I thought that was Yun’s job.”

“It is! Which is why Yun’s allowed.” She glares at him, though there’s no heat in it today. It’s almost a shame. The full fire of her wrath is really something to behold, though even Jae-ha would admit, in his saner moments, that he’d rather it were aimed at someone else. 

“Does it still hurt?” he asks. 

She winces. “Only a little.”

Jae-ha gives her a wry smile. “Let me guess, Hak asked you the exact same thing, earlier?”

“And I told him I was fine, too! Maybe I should get it in writing. An official document, signed by, um, I don’t know - Lili could do it!”

“Saying that you’re fine?”

“Saying that I’m fine.” 

“And if I’m just using your injury as an excuse to sweep you into my arms?”

Yona stares at him blankly. “...Did you eat something funny again?”

“One little love potion, and they never let you live it down!”

“Yun said that was a fake,” she tells him bluntly, plopping herself down on a log with a sigh of relief. 

“So, what was his verdict here?” Jae-ha asks. 

“My ankle? It got sliced pretty badly - down to the muscle. But Yun says it’s healing pretty cleanly, and at least it wasn’t broken. I doubt I would have been able to walk on it, even as far as I did, if it was.”

“You might have been able to pull it off,” he says. Lots of things are possible, if you’re desperate enough. He should know. 

“Well,” she frowns, “I didn’t. All I did was drag Lili down with me and nearly get her killed.” 

Jae-ha resists the urge to pull her close. That’s Hak’s job. “You said it yourself, she’s doing much better now. She’s safe.” 

Yona’s fingers twist into the cloth of her skirt. “Thanks to Hak, and Su-” She looks away. “Thanks to everyone who’s not me. And I’m grateful you were all there, and I’m so happy she’s alive, but it doesn’t make up for…” She trails off. 

“Make up for what?” he asks gently.

“Make up for _nothing_. Which is what I did, and which is the worst thing you can do. Just stand there and do nothing. Or lie there and do nothing, because you can’t _move_ , and…”

Jae-ha swallows hard, suddenly chilly in the warm afternoon. Breathes past the lump inside his chest and shoves down all thoughts of cellar walls, or chains. “It’s an ugly feeling, isn’t it? Being helpless.” 

“She risked her life, leading Kushibi’s men away from me.” Tears track slowly down Yona’s face. She sniffs, wipes them away, but more keep coming. “She hid me in the clearing, k-kissed my forehead, and…”

“And you’d have done the same for her, wouldn’t you?” Even if it turns Jae-ha’s hair as white as Kija’s while he’s still in his prime, that’s precisely the sort of thing Yona would do. That’s the kind of person she is. 

Yona nods, sniffling. 

“What Lili did for your sake… I can’t tell if it was wise, but it was certainly brave. Would you take that act of courage away from her, if it meant keeping her safe?”

Yona’s eyes go wide. “I hadn’t thought of it like that. _No!_ Of course not!” Her voice breaks on the realization. 

“So there you are, then.” 

“But that doesn’t-”

It doesn’t change what’s happened, or her frustration with it. “I know,” he says. “Looks like it will be your turn to save her, next time.” And there _will_ be a next time. No sense in lying to himself about it. 

She she looks up at him, narrow-eyed, suspicious. “It can’t be that easy.” 

“Easy? Hardly.” Now it’s his turn to look away. “I’d have been dead in a gutter without your help, back in Shisen.” To say nothing of the battle for Awa. His shoulder still aches sometimes, where Kum-ji’s arrow had grazed his collarbone. He doesn’t relish owing her his life, but there’s no beauty in denying it, or in reneging on his debts. 

Trouble is, there’s no discharging a life debt. He’s stuck with it, sure as a chain around his neck, and so is she. Yona’s right to question him when he tries to spin this into something simple.

“Did it make you feel like this?” Yona bends down to rub her ankle.

“Helpless?” Jae-ha asks. 

She nods. 

“ _You_ didn’t,” he replies, and it’s true, isn’t it? Has been true for a while. Maybe it would have stung in the beginning, when he thought of her as a child, playing with forces she didn’t understand. By the time he saw her scaling that cliff, by the time she and Yun had infiltrated Kum-ji’s slave ship, he had known better. Where he’d first seen a little girl stood one of the bravest women he knew - and he knows Gi-gan, so that’s no mean praise. No shame in being rescued by her, save for the shame of needing rescue at all. 

“Here,” he touches his fingers to her slippered foot. “Let me help you with that.” 

She freezes a little, the muscles in her leg quivering. “That’s…” When she looks up, her face is bright red. 

“There’s a massage that helps reduce swelling,” he says. “A woman I knew taught me once.” It wasn’t the only sort of massage she specialized in, but Yona doesn’t exactly need to know that. “I doubt I’m as good as Yun, but my skills are at your disposal.” 

“But it’s my smelly foot!” she blurts out, and it’s so like her carrying on with Hak that Jae-ha’s heart aches. 

“It’s not as though I’d need to kiss your toes for this to work,” he muses, his face perfectly straight. 

Yona lets out a squeak, sleeves flailing and battering his face like sails in a breeze. “I… _You-!_ ” Oh, good. He was half afraid _all_ his flirting and innuendo would keep soaring right over her head. “Now you sound like Hak!”

“Do I now?” Maybe _this_ will make her realize that her loyal knight is mad for her, and not just in a courtly fashion. 

“You’re both… Argh! Give me my foot back!” 

He’d meant to let go of her sooner. Truly not his finest moment. Her ankle bones feel fine-china-delicate beneath his hand, and she’s warm, pulse beating faintly beneath her skin. 

“All yours,” he says, and gets up, putting as much space between them as he can without fleeing the scene. 

“...Jae-ha?”

“Do I owe you an apology?” he asks. 

She shakes her head. “Maybe an explanation? You’re acting strange all of a sudden.” 

“I’m always strange,” he says, with a forced laugh. “Didn’t you notice? Strange and beautiful - that’s the dragon way.” 

She looks at him, mild and disappointed. 

“I’m not sure I can explain,” he admits. “We all have moments like that, right?”

“I guess.” He can tell she’s still unsatisfied with his answer. “Can you teach me that massage?” she asks. “I could do it myself, probably, since it’s my leg.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to teach _Hak?_ ” Jae-ha teases. 

“Why? It would be faster by myself.” From most women, that would be a brush-off, to him and Hak alike. From Yona, he suspects it’s sheer obliviousness. 

“All right,” he says. If he wishes this had gone another way, he keeps that wish well enough to himself. More than one way someone can leave you helpless, no matter how pure their intent might be. More than one way to keep running, until you’ve boxed yourself into a corner, caught between sea and sky. 

***

Tomorrow is another day, but tomorrow only proves more, not less idiotic, with Hak nearly drowning himself for a godforsaken hairpin. ‘What were you _thinking_?’ Jae-ha wants to ask, but with the puzzle piece of Yona’s old feelings for Su-won clicking into place, he can guess at Hak’s motives all too well. And yet there’s a lightness about Hak as he shakes the water out of his hair, doglike, unlike anything Jae-ha had ever seen in him before. It’s a lightness borne of contemplation, of having figured something out. 

He seeks Hak out later that night, bottle in hand. Yona is already asleep, for a change, having finished her nightly archery and yawned her way back to the tent she shares with Yun. Hak’s crouched by the fire, poking it with a stick till it blazes. He takes the wine without questioning Jae-ha’s motives, sprawls with it by the roots of a nearby tree. They forego cups, drinking straight from the bottle, until everything’s hazy and warm and Hak’s hair is falling into his eyes. 

“Yona told me about your talk yesterday,” Hak says. 

“Did she?” Hak’s tone is too light for Jae-ha to think he’s bringing it up out of jealousy. But then, you never know. 

Hak’s mouth twists, sardonic and bittersweet. “She could’ve come to me with all that stuff.” 

“She _did_ ,” Jae-ha points out. “Otherwise, how would you-” He reconsiders. “Never mind. You’d probably know because you follow her everywhere and overhear everything.” 

Hak scoffs. “Like you can talk.” 

Jae-ha leans back against the tree, close enough that his shoulder is almost touching Hak’s. “ _Are_ you afraid I will steal her away from you?”

It’s not that he expects Hak to rise to the bait. Not directly, anyway, not with his mind and heart all twisted up around themselves. Still. If Jae-ha pushes him, he will inevitably teeter toward Yona, like she’s the center of his gravity. 

“Should I be?”

Jae-ha squints at him through the firelight, watching for the telltale clench in Hak’s jaw, signs of tension setting back in. “What do you think?”

Hak makes a rude gesture, then picks up his drink again. “Not a chance,” he says. 

Well. _This_ is new and interesting. “You’re awfully confident,” Jae-ha drawls. _For a man who’s yet to make a move._

Hak crosses his arms. “I think _you’re_ afraid.” His eyes bore into Jae-ha’s, dark and unyielding, and if Jae-ha were a different sort of man, with a different score of perversions, he’d surely have looked away by now. 

There’s a retort, right on the tip of his tongue. Something breezy and clever, with knife-sharp insight, steering the conversation back to the blessed idiots that are Hak and Yona, and far, far away from Jae-ha himself. “Oh, really? What of?” It comes out weaker than Jae-ha would like, leaving Hak the opening he’d made. “The jealous wrath of the Thunder Beast, perhaps? You don’t think I could fight you to at least a draw? Your disregard wounds me.” 

“My foot in your face is gonna wound you,” Hak mutters under his breath. Jae-ha grins, and Hak scowls. “Except you apparently like that sort of thing. Ugh, now I feel unclean.” 

“Hasn’t stopped you from kicking me yet,” Jae-ha points out. And it _hasn’t_ , that’s the thing. All Hak has to do, to stop Jae-ha’s flirtations cold, is to ignore him. Instead, he plays along. If Jae-ha’s honest with himself, he’s not sure what to think of that. Best not to get his hopes up, when either of those two are involved. 

If ‘up’ is the word for it. Yona’s presence, her very ontological existence, makes everything complicated. Which brings them right back to the conversation Jae-ha is desperately trying to avoid. 

“You want me to stop? Just say the word.” Hak flashes him a feral smile, and Jae-ha recalls the almost feverish warmth and sudden crush of his embrace when he’d learned that Yona was safe. 

_Yes,_ Jae-ha thinks. “Now, why would I do that?” he says. _It would be simpler that way._

 _It wouldn’t be nearly as interesting._

“It’s some dragon bullshit,” Hak says, and Jae-ha mourns the failure of all his distractions. “Whatever it is, it’s had you running scared, all the way back in Awa. You think I’m just gonna forget that?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jae-ha grumbles, as something knots up hard and cold in his belly. 

Hak shrugs. “Never said I did. So. Fill me in.” 

Jae-ha closes his eyes. “With Hiryuu as your master,” he recites from memory, “Protect and love and never betray him, for as long as you live.” 

“Is that the bullshit you guys all hear inside your heads when you meet her?”

Jae-ha nods. “‘ _Love_ him,’” he says. “Isn’t it wonderful, how much the gods presume.”

Hak snorts. “They also said ‘him,’ so it’s not like they’ve been keeping up with the times. You think they have the power to change how you feel?”

Jae-ha bites off several bitter retorts. “Hell if I know,” he finally says. “And if I do feel something when I’m with her? No way of knowing if it’s real or if it’s all just part of some ineffable, celestial plan. So yes, fine, you’re absolutely right. You have nothing to fear from me, as far as the lady’s hand is concerned.” 

“You think you’re the only one who can’t trust his own mind?” Hak asks flatly. 

“The others seem unbothered by it,” Jae-ha replies. The air between them is thick, and Jae-ha’s keenly aware he’s missing something. “Don’t tell me you-” Hak’s entirely human, isn’t he? His fate is his own.

Hak rolls his eyes. “For a guy who pretends he’s all worldly, you sure are dense as hell.”

So it’s an everyday kind of uncertainty, then. Nothing magic about it. “Does it have something to do with the king?” Jae-ha asks, though it’s barely a question. 

Hak’s face goes blank, slot-eyed and sullen. “Don’t go there,” he says. 

He’s backpedaling, and Jae-ha’s got half a mind to let him, but Hak’s not the sort of man to stumble accidentally into his words. He’s the one who brought it up first, however roundabout. Some part of him must wish to bleed the old wound. “You’re the one who won’t let it go.” 

_It could be worse. I could have said ‘won’t let_ him _go._

Hak takes another swig from the bottle. “I never saw him coming,” he says, “and that’s on him, but it’s on me, too. I was a fucking general, did you know that? Reading people’s part of the job description, and I… Yeah, I’ve got nothing.” 

“What kind of man did you think he was?” Jae-ha asks. 

“A good man,” Hak says, fixing his eyes on the ground. “It doesn’t matter what I thought, or what I still think.” When he looks up, his smile is rueful as ash. “Why would we need the gods to cloud our minds? We do it just as well all by ourselves.” 

What can Jae-ha say to that? Better to sling an arm around Hak’s shoulders and pluck the wine from his hand. “Well, it’s official. We’re a wretched lot.” 

“Yeah? Tell me something I don’t know.” 

Jae-ha watches the liquid slosh around inside the bottle. “Must’ve made it hard to trust any of us, after that.” 

“Idiot,” Hak says, grinding his knuckles into the back of Jae-ha’s head. Jae-ha leans into it like it’s a caress. “I already trust you.”

Some part of Jae-ha must have known already. It still wrecks him to hear Hak say it. 

“If you betray her...” Hak continues. ‘If you betray me’ remains unspoken. “If you betray her, I’ll kill you, and I’ll do it calmly.” They’re both thinking of their first time in Sensui. The smell of the ocean and the clamor of steel against steel. 

Jae-ha taps the side of his head. “Can’t do it, remember?”

“Fuck the gods,” Hak says. “You can do whatever you want. Except for that.” 

_No chance of it_ , Jae-ha thinks. No need to say it; they both know where he stands. 

***

A week out of the city, Jae-ha’s starting to feel like they’re getting their bearing again. The scent of Yun cooking dinner fills the clearing, wild duck stewing in a pot with chili paste, ginger and garlic, so rich and vivid that Jae-ha can almost taste it already. Sunlight filters green through the leaves, warm on Jae-ha’s face. 

He can hear Yona and Hak arguing nearby. Not a real argument, more like their usual bickering, but the distance that’s sprung up between them recently lingers and that’s worrisome. Jae-ha heaves himself to his feet, walking up to join them. Whatever they’d been arguing about seems to have resolved itself already, and Yona’s dangling an earring tassel for Shin-ah’s squirrel to bat at, like she’s a cat, while Hak dusts off his hands, getting ready to gather extra firewood. They’re not touching, and they’re determinedly looking in opposite directions so they don’t have to catch each other’s eye. _Well, this is unbearably awkward,_ Jae-ha thinks. 

“What did I miss?” he asks, deliberately casual. 

“Not a whole lot.” Hak shoulders a bundle of rope as Yona shoots Jae-ha a look of slight confusion. 

“Really?” Jae-ha’s never quite managed the feat of lifting a single eyebrow, but he’s going to try anyway. “Should I leave you two alone, then?” He loads the phrase dripping with subtext. Seeing Yona turn red is gratifying, but the streak of crimson on Hak’s face is even more telling. “Is that a ‘yes?’”

“Do whatever you want,” Hak says, just as Yona pipes up, “You should stay.” 

_Interesting._ Jae-ha thinks. _So what does this tell me? Perhaps the situation’s gone critical enough they’re desperate for someone to help them._

***

“We’ve been friends since we were kids,” Yona tells him a couple of days later, knees tucked under her chin. “Changing that… it would just be weird.”

“I promised her father I would protect her,” Hak mentions offhandedly, while they’re taking turns stoking the fire late at night. Only there’s nothing offhanded about what he’s actually saying. “I promised _her_.” He shakes his head. “I’m her bodyguard: that’s all there is to it.”

“I really messed up with him,” Yona confesses, and Jae-ha can tell she’s trying hard not to cry. 

“I’m pretty sure she hates me.” Hak rakes a hand through his hair. “Be nice to know what I did to deserve it.” 

Neither of them says the word ‘love,’ though it resonates through their every sentence. 

Jae-ha thinks he’s starting to understand. Some of it’s inertia - simple as that. Some of it’s undoubtedly Su-won. The man they don’t talk about, though they really should. Most of it’s fear: so normal and _adolescent_ compared to everything else they’ve faced, but still ever-present, and steep as the tallest mountain. 

“What are you scared of?” Jae-ha asks them, each in turn. 

“I’m not!” Hak insists, and turns away. 

And Yona says, “I don’t want to lose him.” 

It would be remarkably easy, just to say ‘tell him that;’ ‘tell her that.’ But it’s nothing they don’t already know, and there’s that fear again. He wishes he could offer them some nugget of profound wisdom, like a knife cutting through the uncertainty. Shame no such thing exists. Anything which touts itself a cure is nothing but snake oil, a truism in disguise. The heart doesn’t lend itself to easy fixes. 

***

It takes another land, another war barely averted. A closer shave than Jae-ha might have liked, but chains are meant to be broken, and wounds heal soon enough. Their dragon blood sees to that, and if Jae-ha is angry - lividly, wretchedly angry - he tells himself it’s more on the others’ behalf than his own. Always a price when you don’t fight back, especially if it’s for a noble cause. 

It takes Yona brokering a treaty between Su-won and Xing, with an eerily calm Hak at her side. Whatever passes between the three of them, Jae-ha’s not privy to it. Perhaps it’s nothing more than political terms. Either way, it changes things, pushes them forward. 

They don’t make a secret of it. Couldn’t if they tried: not a subtle bone in either of their bodies. The first time Jae-ha sees them kissing, he thinks, _Well, that’s that._ Yona’s hands are fisted in the folds of Hak’s cloak, and he’s gone on one knee, the better to reach her, or maybe just because he’s _Hak_ , and he has always belonged to her. And if this closure leaves Jae-ha tossing and turning late at night, unsatisfied and yearning in some wretched, rebellious part of his soul, it’s not as though he hadn’t been aware of the risks. It takes an idiot to know his kin. 

***

It’s the little slips that give him away. The little permissions he gives himself, starting with the permission to feel relieved, telling in its reluctance. Yona and Hak are happy, and damn it, he’s happy for them. It’s not a lie, it’s not a contradiction. It’s simply not that simple. Then comes the permission to ‘let things go back to normal,’ or so he calls it. Which means teasing Hak is back on the table. Hak’s never taken him seriously, so it’s safe. It always has been.

Until now. 

There’s a method to his madness, of course, a set of rules he’s got to follow. Smile, keep your tone glib. Let your body language communicate this is a game, nothing more. Never do it when Yona’s not there, or else it takes on a grimy, clandestine note Jae-ha would never have intended. So long as she sees what he’s doing, she can tell him if it makes her uncomfortable. 

Assuming she notices he’s flirting at all, and this time she notices. 

He’s got an arm around Hak’s shoulders, and Hak is scowling without pushing him away. Jae-ha’s trying to tell him something when he sees the way Yona’s looking right at them. He probably waves, and she smiles, and all of Jae-ha’s words and actions fall right out of his head. It’s a knowing smile, which makes it a dangerous smile, all the more startling for its newness. 

“So _that’s_ what it looks like,” she says. 

Hak’s mouth quirks up. “What, you thought I was lying?”

“You _would_.” She makes a silly face, and hell if Hak’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes at the sight of it. 

Jae-ha holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Can someone fill me in on what’s being discussed, or is keeping me in the dark the point of the exercise?”

Hak covers Yona’s mouth with his hand before she can spill the beans. Her eyebrows speak volumes over the curve of his thumb. “You think I’d pass up the chance to watch you twist?”

“And you wonder why I call you a sadist.” 

“Hah,” Hak scoffs, “you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

“Mmmph!” says Yona, and does something which makes Hak jerk his hand back. “I’d thought you were just joking,” she says. It takes Jae-ha a moment to realize she’s addressing him again. “But you kind of mean it, don’t you?”

“I always mean what I say,” he assures her. _Except for the part where I almost never do._

“Even when you’re flirting with Hak?” she asks. Jae-ha’s stomach churns. 

“Getting jealous, princess?”

She ignores his question and goes square for the gut. “What about when you flirt with me?” And he hasn’t done that, not in weeks, not since she and Hak… Jae-ha’s mind races, and he misses the opportunity to make light. 

“I thought so,” she says, and Jae-ha fights the urge to bury his head in his hands. 

“It’s complicated,” he says, far closer to the truth than he might have liked.

“I know,” Yona’s hand touches his shoulder, gentle. There is kingship in her voice, not the kingship of sword and law, but another, subtler reign. The king as father, his subjects children begging for his wisdom. And if life’s taught Jae-ha anything about parents, it’s that they’re far from always wise, or kind, or unbroken. 

He shudders, and to her everlasting credit, she gives him back his distance. “I’m sorry,” she says. 

Jae-ha turns to Hak, because he’s not sure he can deal with looking at her right now. “I… Hell, I wasn’t lying to you, before. You know that, right?”

“‘It’s complicated,’” Hak echoes. “Yeah, you said that already.” Jae-ha searches for signs of recrimination in his eyes. And finds none. He doesn’t deserve them. Either - _any_ \- of them. 

Now would be the time to retreat, but the arrow’s already been nocked, the sword drawn from its sheath. “I mean it enough,” he admits. “Still doesn’t have to mean anything, if you don’t-”

“And if I did?” she asks. 

“You don’t.” He says, flat. 

She rounds on him, flames in her eyes. “You don’t get to decide that for me!” 

She’s four times as beautiful when she’s angry. It’s Jae-ha’s curse in life, but part of the reason he loves that anger so is that it’s freeing. Like he’s being given permission to be angry in return, not that he needs any such royal leave. Jae-ha locks eyes with her. “What about him?” he asks, jerking his chin in Hak’s direction. 

“I love Hak,” Yona says, and it comes out so damn easy, after all the months of prevaricating, and Jae-ha’s so proud of them it hurts. 

Hak ducks his head. “Yeah, tell it to the world, why don’t you? And _you_ ,” he glares at Jae-ha, “are being a hypocrite.”

He is, too, and what’s worse, Jae-ha knows it. 

“You think you’re the only one who gets to chase different people?” Hak presses him. 

_You’re not like me._ Jae-ha wants to say. It sounds weak, even in his own head. 

“Why are you so eager to see her with another man?” he counters instead. 

Another disparaging noise from Hak. “You’re making it sound like I won’t be there for it, or have a say in the matter.” 

“I just want you to tell me the truth,” Yona says, and her eyes are wide and hurt, and Jae-ha’s just as weak to her in her vulnerability as in her strength. 

“I want you both,” he says, sealing his fate. 

“Yeah, no shit.” Trust Hak to suck the poison out of the moment, his mouth a tight, thin line. “What, you really think you’re the only one who’s ever wanted someone, and thought better, and kept wanting them anyway?”

“I’m not him,” Jae-ha says. They all know who he’s talking about. _I won’t be him for you,_ he wants to say, but the truth is - the sick, sad truth is - he _would_. Some wounds can heal in pretending, and he wants so badly to be the one who helps them heal. The realization isn’t new, and it _is_ , and he wants to deny it, and he doesn’t. 

“You didn’t kill my father,” Yona says, the hurt in her voice so old and scabbed-over that Jae-ha feels like a buffoon for having missed it before. 

“I don’t belong to anyone,” Jae-ha says. “I won’t be yours. That’s not-” He shakes his head. “That’s not who I am.” There’s too much beauty in the world for faithfulness, and not enough time. Never enough time. 

Yona takes his hand. Her fingers are icy cold in his. It would be so easy to draw her hand to his lips, warm it up with his breath, but her grip is firm, keeping them both on track. “Will you be there if we need you?” she asks. ‘We,’ not ‘I.’ Like there was ever any doubt. Like Jae-ha hadn’t already admitted he’d die for any of this motley bunch, together or separately, a long time ago. 

But dying is easy, especially for someone like him. Only a matter of time before his successor is born. Living for the sake of another - that’s a much, much heavier weight. 

“Do you really have to ask?”

She smiles. “What if I want to hear you say it?”

“I’ll be there,” he says. No matter if ‘there’ is a battlefield, a prison cell, an executioner’s block. Or a cheerful campfire and a forest clearing ringing with beloved voices. _I’d never forgive myself if something happened to any of you._

“That’s all I’m asking.” Yona tilts her head up toward him. Her hair glitters like blood and gold in the firelight. “I don’t want to bind you. I don’t want to make you into someone who’s _not_ you. I just-”

“You want me?” Jae-ha flashes her a crooked grin to cover up the tremble in his voice. 

“I want so much. _Too_ much. I know that, and still, I…” 

Hak folds around her from behind. “You’re a king, aren’t you? Shouldn’t a king get to take what she wants?” His words are heavy with a bittersweet weight. Thinking of another king, even now. Always going to be another body between them. Ah, well. It isn’t like Jae-ha doesn’t know what he’s getting into. 

Yona breathes, cheeks flushing. “I- I want…” she says, voice shaky and low. Her hand clamps down on Jae-ha’s, white-knuckled. 

If bending to kiss her cheek is a little too much like a bow for Jae-ha’s sensibilities, he ignores the alarm bells. “Far be it from me to deny you your desires.”

“Enough with the stupid lines,” Hak grumbles, and he’s right. There’s a beautiful, amazing woman in front of him. Can Jae-ha really not think of something better to do with his mouth? 

Yona pulls him toward her, stretches up toward him. Brushes her mouth over his, and it’s like a typhoon, a flood, tearing him from his mooring and spinning him adrift on a stormy sea. He closes his eyes, the better to keep from drowning in the sailor-take-warning color of her hair. 

Hak’s hand settles on the back of Jae-ha’s neck. The vulnerability of it should unsettle Jae-ha, but it steadies him instead. He knows who that hand belongs to, and there are few men he’d trust half as far. 

After a long moment, Yona draws back, and he’s sorry to feel it end. “Well?” he asks. 

“I liked that,” she replies shyly, eyes flickering to Hak, wanting to make sure this is still alright with him. 

If anything, the look on Hak’s face is unbearably smug. “Careful,” he says, poking Yona in the side. “If you leave him any more droopy-eyed, he’ll be running into trees all day tomorrow.” 

Yona traces a finger over Jae-ha’s cheek, leaving trails of warmth and sensation in her wake. 

“Yeah,” Hak says. “Exactly what I’m talking about.” 

It’s hard to think around these two lousy cheaters. _One wrong step, and you’ll be the one seduced, ready to give them anything they could ask for._ Jae-ha breathes hard, forces himself to snap out of it. “I don’t play like that,” he says. Tries to soften his words with a smile, but the intent behind them is real, and all-too-raw for his liking. 

“Did I do something wrong?” He can see Yona withdraw into herself, and feels like a heel. 

“Not _wrong_ ,” he says, holding out his hand for her again. “Just not for me. Not in that way.” _All she did was be herself_ , he thinks guiltily, _and there’s power in that. Too much power; too rich for my blood._

_What the hell am I doing?_

Yona nods. “I… I think I get it.” Another furtive look at Hak. “It’s how I used to get around Su-won. Silly, and light, and happy, like I didn’t have to think at all anymore. And I _liked_ feeling that way!” She clenches her fists. “But I don’t like thinking back on it, and that’s not me anymore. I don’t _want_ that to be me anymore. Even if,” she adds hesitantly, “sometimes I do.” She clamps her jaw down around the sentiment before Jae-ha can ask. “And I know it’s not exactly like that for you, but…” 

“So we’re both control freaks,” Jae-ha chuckles humorlessly. Life taught them both that way. Never let anyone get the drop on you. They’ll only hurt you, betray you, tie you down. Take away something key and _real_ about who you are, who you will eventually become. 

“Is that what I am?” No telltale signs of trepidation in Yona’s gaze when she asks this time. Instead she only looks thoughtful. 

Jae-ha takes some time, puts some care in how he answers her. “You’re not as deliberate about it as I am - and that’s a good thing. You’re a natural, I’m afraid. Besides,” he adds with a smile, “I rather like it - so long as it’s aimed at someone else.” 

“I see.” Yona shakes her head, laughing. 

“Do you, now?” he teases. 

Yona bites her lip. Turns to Hak, and there’s a flash of _something_ in her eye Jae-ha can’t quite name. “I think you should kiss him,” she says. 

Hak bows to her, oddly solemn. “Is that what the princess commands?”

Jae-ha can see Yona start to hesitate again, unsure if she’s overstepping her bounds, so he leans close to her, lips brushing the rim of her ear. “It’s all right. _Look_ at him.” Hak’s face has gone slack, eyes half-lidded and luminous with arousal. She’s got him in the palm of her archer-callused hand, and he loves it. 

“Then yes,” Yona says. “I command it.” 

Hak’s glorious when he fights, graceful and feral, sharp as a knife between the ribs. Even at rest, there’s a restless beauty coiled in his muscles. And now that power and drive, barely contained, bears down on Jae-ha all at once, Hak’s weight pressing him backwards, Hak’s hand fisted in his hair. Hak’s mouth hard on his, fever-hot. His fervor obliterates any ruse that Hak might be doing this for Yona’s benefit alone, and Jae-ha’s never been a fan of the gods, but even he has to admit they’re pulling in his favor tonight. 

Jae-ha knows Yona must be watching them, though it’s impossible for him to focus on anyone but Hak right now. He hopes the show is worthy of her pleasure, and then he stops thinking, tightening his grip on Hak’s arm and kissing back for all he’s worth. 

When Hak pulls back, dark-eyed and dishevelled, Jae-ha keeps a hand on his shoulder, steadying him, just as Hak had done for him before. “Always knew you had it in you,” Jae-ha says, not a little breathless. 

“‘Hoped,’ you mean.’” Jae-ha can feel the loud, unsteady beat of Hak’s pulse, the tremor in his stance. In a way, it’s reassuring he’s not the only one here shaking in his boots. 

Yona tugs at Hak’s sleeve, ducking under his arm, and he makes room for her. They fit so well, the way she seems to almost melt into his arms, like they’ve stood together, fought together, loved together their entire lives. 

And here he is, standing right with them.

“Now what?” Jae-ha asks. 

Hak shrugs. “Hell if I know.” 

“Do we have to have it all figured out?” Yona twists up a lock of her hair. It’s been growing out, slowly but surely. 

“No,” Jae-ha says. He’s not sure anyone’s ever got this sort of thing all figured out, not really. “We don’t.” He taps her nose with one finger, traces down to her lips, simply because he _can_. They part slightly at his touch, and gods, he needs to kiss her again. 

Yona shifts position, until she’s next to Jae-ha again, though her hand’s still tangled with Hak’s. Hak brushes his lips over the line of her throat, finding the tenderest part of it, where it rises toward her ear, and Yona lets out a small, shivery noise. _Our turn to drive you crazy,_ Jae-ha thinks, and swoops down to capture her eager mouth. 

Sure, they don’t know what they’re doing, and there are hundreds, thousands of ways it could all go wrong. But life is bleak enough without Jae-ha going out of his way to deny what beauty it offers. If this is a moment of hope, of respite, of happiness? He’ll take it, and pay the bills when the creditors come calling. He may be a fool, but then so are they, and there’s no company he’d rather be foolish in.

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic is based on a lyric from [Paths of Desire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QdCQ1aoQtxg), by October Project.
> 
> The concept of a king as father is not a new one, but I got a lot of my phrasing in how Jae-ha thinks of it from an actual Korean poem called “Statesmanship,” by Master Ch’ungdam. The translation I used is from the Columbia Anthology of Traditional Korean Poetry, edited by Peter H. Lee.
>
>> The king is father,  
> And his ministers are loving mothers.  
> His subjects are foolish children;  
> They only receive what love brings.
>> 
>> Schooled in saving the masses,  
> The king feeds and guides them.  
> Then no one will desert this land-  
> This is the way to govern a country.
>> 
>> Peace and prosperity will prevail if each-  
> King, minister and subject - lives as he should. 


End file.
